


the last time he saw her

by peachaspie



Series: watch me drift away [1]
Category: OMORI (Video Game)
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Mutual Pining, Sneaking Out, basil/sunny if u squint, eldest child syndrome, kel gets on hero's nerves lolz, mari talks for 5000 words while hero falls even harder, mari's dad sucks lolz, picnics :333, so much pain, the old hideout, these characters deserve so much more than they get
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-18 03:33:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29603214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peachaspie/pseuds/peachaspie
Summary: mari and hero sneak out at midnight for a secret picnic the night before the recital.
Relationships: Basil/Sunny (OMORI), Hero/Mari (OMORI)
Series: watch me drift away [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2193744
Comments: 17
Kudos: 103





	the last time he saw her

**Author's Note:**

> yes, i did listen to the final duet on repeat as i wrote this  
> and yes, i did cry
> 
> (also im a fake fan, i didn't realize the game canonically takes place in the early 2000s lol so yeah they're texting)

_{ Honey, just put your sweet lips on my lips,_

_We could just kiss like real people do. }_

The picnics were Mari’s idea. It was the beginning of spring--before the teachers stopped handing out assignments, but after mid semester exam grades were released. They had sprawled themselves out on her front lawn after school, waiting for something interesting to happen. Kel and Aubrey were bickering over something too miniscule for Hero to catch, and Basil, with his animated hands, showed Sunny all of the flowers he saw blooming in the sky. 

There was a part of him that envied Basil’s creativity. When Hero stared up into the looming sky, all he saw were white patches and the occasional passing airplane. Sometimes if he squinted hard enough, he could make out the shapes, but most of the time cloud watching fell flat. How brilliant. 

“See that one? It sort of looks like a daffodil.” Basil stretched out his hand in the general direction of a cluster of clouds. “If you use your imagination.” 

_Ouch._ Hero wondered if he even had an imagination. He blinked and squinted hard in search of the daffodil, not that he even knew for sure what a daffodil looked like, but he couldn’t find anything. Anything that resembled a flower, at least. There was nothing. 

“Looking pretty hard over there,” Mari’s voice rang quiet and sweet in his ears, and it made him painfully aware of how little space laid between them. “What do you see?” 

He grimaced at the thought of admitting his mind drew a thousand blanks when he stared upwards. If he asked her the same question, she could probably come up with a million more things than he could even dream of. Where he lacked in vision, Mari had an abundance of it. It felt like she had been born with some innate talent that Hero would never possess. He might’ve been jealous--no, he was definitely jealous. She probably knew it, too--she knew him better than anyone; she knew him better than he knew himself sometimes. If he lied about the blank slate in the sky, she would see right through it. 

So, he replied with a short, “Nothing.” 

He must’ve said it in some sort of way, because she laughed. He loved her laugh. This one was soft and charming, low so only he could hear it. A laugh only for him. “That’s okay,” their knuckles grazed in an all-too-familiar way as she added, “I don’t see anything, either.” 

Hero turned to face her, shocked, and tried not to show how conscious he was of the closeness of their faces. “You don’t?” 

She started to reply, but was promptly cutoff by her father’s voice coming from the driveway. They jerked away from each other, him sitting up promptly, and her turning to her side to face Sunny. “Are you kids just gonna lay out on my lawn all day or are you gonna do something productive?” He walked a few more steps toward them and gave Hero a glare so deadly it nearly gave him a heart attack.

“Uh, no, sir, we were actually about to leave,” Hero lied through his teeth this time, they had no plans to leave, but the last thing he wanted to do was give Mari’s father another reason to _absolutely loathe him._ He doesn’t know what he did exactly, but every time they make eye contact, Hero gets the urge to apologize profusely and never show his face to the light of day again. 

“We were?” Kel said obnoxiously loud, because _of course he would._

Hero got to his feet, brushing off the stray strands of grass from his lap. “Yep.”

“What for?” 

_Jesus Christ, Kel, can you please take a hint?_

Before Hero could come up with some outlandish response, he wasn’t one to think fast on his feet, Mari cut in. “A picnic!” She strolled past Hero to greet her father with a short hug as the younger kids cheered. “Can we take some blankets from the linen closet?” She linked their arms together as she added, “Hero’s gonna whip up something for us to eat. He’s reliable like that, daddy.” 

Her father quirked an eyebrow. “Is he now?” 

This was too painful to watch. Hero pretended not to hear the conversation and turned to face the rest of the group who were now excitedly chattering away about the spontaneous outing. Despite Hero’s preference for staying in rather than going out, a picnic did sound nice, although he would rather it just be the two of them for once. Even if Aubrey and Basil weren’t there, Sunny was practically linked to Mari’s hip, and Kel followed Hero around like an aimless pup any chance he got. It was like they were cursed to solely interact in relationship purgatory--grazing knuckles and joint personal space were as far as they were going to get. 

He must have zoned out again because the next thing he knew, the kids, excluding Sunny who stayed behind, were marching down the sidewalk towards Faraway Park and Mari was standing right in front him.

“Do you mind?” Her head was tilted to the side, and she was giving him that look that he couldn’t bring himself to say no to. 

“No, I don’t mind at all,” the words came out rushed and slurred. “Um, what don’t I mind exactly?” _God_ , he sounded like such an idiot.

She laughed again, and he wasn’t sure if it was comforting or humiliating. “Making us food for the picnic! It doesn’t have to be anything special. Sandwiches or something.” 

“Oh! Right. Yeah, I don’t mind,” and he really meant it. It was embarrassing, but he would honest-to-God do anything for her, even if her dad hated his guts for no apparent reason. This was nothing--it couldn’t even be called a favor. 

“Sweet,” she flashed him a smile, “I knew I could count on you, Hero. Meet at the hideout?” 

The tips of his ears burned as he nodded. “Yeah! I’ll be there in a bit.” He wondered if she knew exactly what she was doing to him when she said sappy things like that. 

Mari nodded in reply, and the two parted ways. 

That was over six months ago. The picnics evolved from a once a month thing to an every Sunday afternoon thing over the summer, and the practice dissolved as the autumn leaves rolled in and school came back into session. It all went by so fast that now Hero regrets not savoring it more. Junior year is almost halfway gone, and his parents are hounding him about college every second they get. On top of all of that, there didn’t seem to be much time to get together with the group. He’d seen Mari outside of school once, which he had prepared himself for, but obviously not enough, because he misses her so much that he’s afraid he might implode. 

Every night for the past month or so, the sound of her piano playing wafts over from next door. It’s the same song over and over again, but it never grows old. Sometimes he can hear her practicing for so long, he wonders if she’s exhausted herself. It’s terrible, but even after hours of probably mind-numbing rehearsal, his heart sinks when it ends. He groans and reflexively smacks his own forehead. 

_That’s really terrible._

“Are you okay?” 

Hero stares off to the side, incredulous. _Typical._ Kel’s been playing his stupid video games for the last four hours, arguing with Aubrey over the phone nearly the whole time, both with no headphones, and _now_ he’s asking if Hero’s okay? It’s too late to start being considerate, and Hero is well over his limit.

After giving himself a few moments to compose himself, he offers his brother an apologetic smile that doesn’t feel apologetic at all, and says as gently as possible, “I’m trying to sleep, Kel.” 

He stares into the screen vacantly. “Then go to sleep.” 

_Seriously?_ Hero internally takes back everytime he’s attempted to be “the nice guy”, throws the cover off his legs, grabs his phone, and crosses the room to leave. “I’m going to go get some melatonin. If that shit isn’t off by the time I get back, I’m telling mom that you’ve been hoarding junk food under your bed _and_ that you’re failing pre-algebra.” 

With one hand on the door handle, he hears a whine in protest behind him. “What? No! It’s not my fault I’m not as perfect as you, dude.” 

_Ugh. It is too late to be having this fight again._ Hero looks back to his brother, trying to give him the most parental, “I’m not angry, just disappointed” face he can muster. “Kel. It’s pre-algebra. It’s not hard. Turn your stupid game off.”

“What?! Hero, come o--” 

_Slam._

Hero forgets for a moment that other people live in this house and almost opens the door to argue some more, but it really is too late for that. He stifles a yawn as he stalks to the bathroom and checks his phone. 

_11:49 p.m._

_1 notification from Messages._

He frowns. It’s unusual to get a text from anyone this late. Rummaging in the medicine cabinet with one hand, he slides up with the other. He drags his finger across the various bottles before finding the box wedged between the Advil and Benadryl. Found it. He swipes the container, and moves to get the sink running, but is stopped in his tracks when he glances back down to his phone. 

**_From Mari -- 11:14 p.m._ **

_You up?_

At first his heart lifts at the sight of Mari’s text, but it quickly sinks when he realizes it’s been over thirty minutes since it was sent, and she’s probably gone off to bed by now. Still, she could be up… He places the medicine on the edge of the counter and shoots a message back. He doesn’t expect a reply, but it’s worth the effort, right?

**_To Mari -- 11:51 p.m._ **

_Sorry, I didn’t see your message lol. Did you need something?_

To his surprise, bubbles pop up almost immediately. 

**_From Mari -- 11:51 p.m._ **

_Do you wanna go on a super-ultra-mega-hyper-awesome picnic date??_

_Like,,, right now maybe????_

_;D_

Hero blinks, rereads the message at least a dozen times, then blinks harder. Spontaneity isn’t uncommon for Mari, there have been dozens of times she’s impulsively turned all of their plans on their heads, but that doesn't change the fact that it’s well past the time he should have fallen asleep by, and sneaking out isn’t usually something he’d be up for. But it’s Mari, and he hadn’t seen her outside of school for nearly a month. 

**_To Mari -- 11:52 p.m._ **

_Hell yeah :)))_

**_From Mari -- 11:52 p.m._ **

_Sweet!!!!!!_

_I’ll get the blankets if you get the food_

_Nothing special_

_A few sandwiches or something idk_

**_To Mari -- 11:53 p.m._ **

_Got it._

_What about the recital tomorrow?_

He stares at his phone for a whole two and a half minutes before coming to the conclusion that Mari wasn’t going to reply. 

Hero shrugs it off and hurries back to his room, forgetting that he was struggling to stay awake ten minutes beforehand. Kel is still glued to the TV, and while Hero feels the urge to play the parent once again, he instead rolls his eyes and continues on, throwing on random articles of clothing that will keep him warm. 

“You going somewhere?” Kel asks after he’s changed out of his pajamas and is slipping into his old slides. (This isn’t a formal outing, and he’s not going to dress like it is.) 

“Mhm,” he wants to keep it at that, but Kel doesn’t even pretend to be satisfied. 

He finally pauses his game and looks up at his brother with shining eyes for the first time in hours. “Wait, really? Where? Can I come?” Kel starts rummaging around for what are probably his shoes before Hero can even reject him. “Why this late?”

“No, you can’t come, and it’s none of your business,” the words come out more harshly than intended, and the guilt from snapping at him earlier decides to settle in. He sighs and offers a smile more genuine than the one he flashed earlier. “Sorry, buddy. I’ll be back later though.” 

Kel’s expression falters when they meet eyes, and he seems to have gotten the hint for once in his life. “Oh.” 

There’s a twist in his gut when Kel silently turns back to his game. Hero reaches over and ruffles his hair as consolation before half-whispering, “Next time, though.” With one foot out the door, he adds, “and go to bed,” before slipping out of their shared room and making his way to the kitchen. He decides to bring sandwich stuff rather than actually make them to save time, and prays that his parents don’t wake up from the creaks and moans of the front door opening and shutting.

Mari is already standing at the foot of his driveway when he’s closed the door behind him. She doesn’t notice him at first--she’s staring at her phone, scrolling and scrolling and scrolling and scrolling. Her grandmother’s antique picnic basket sits at her feet, multicolored blankets spilling from inside. Her face is illuminated by the soft glow of her phone’s screen. It’s nice. He doesn’t usually catch her off guard like this. She smiles at something on the screen and it gives him heart palpitations. Was he always this into her, or is this a new development? 

She notices him when he starts down the pavement, and her smile only grows wider when their eyes meet. 

“Hey,” she says, her voice hushed and edged with anticipation. The cold has flushed her cheeks, but she radiates warmth nonetheless. “Thanks for coming on my epic-mega-neon-genesis-evangelion picnic date. It is very much appreciated.” 

Hero can’t help but grin. “No problem. Seemed like fun. And Kel has been getting on my nerves lately. I need a break. Little brothers, huh?” They were always able to relate on an unspoken, eldest sibling level. It’s more funny than it is sad, but the two have shared many heartfelt conversations about the expectations that come along with it. 

Her expression shifts between annoyance and something he can’t decipher as she rolls her eyes. “Tell me about it.” She scrunches her nose and shakes her head, like she’s shaking away whatever she was thinking about. “Let’s get out of here before my dad realizes that I’ve disappeared into the night.” 

So dramatic. In front of the kids, she’s so composed and graceful, prepared for any oncoming argument or injury, always has an idea up her sleeve when boredom is rotting their brains away--she never wavers. She refuses to falter. And it used to be that way in front of him, too, but everything changed over the summer after Sunny fell into the lake behind Faraway Park. Hero wasn’t there to see it happen, he doesn’t even remember where he was at this point, but long story short, Mari jumped in and saved him. Kel said that she kept a relatively straight face the whole time, maybe she wiped away a few tears, but the next night she asked Hero to walk to the intersection with her, away from her house’s line of sight. The moment they stepped foot past the stop sign, she cried and cried and cried. Hero had never seen her like that before. 

She buried her head into his shoulder, sobs racking through her body, and when she calmed down enough to speak, all she could manage was, “I don’t know what I would do if I lost him.” All he could do was hold her. He’d never felt so helpless. 

He couldn’t imagine what it felt like. Kel is an annoying 12 year old, sure, but if something were to happen… thinking about it makes his stomach churn. 

He doesn’t want to think about it. He wants to think about her. 

They walk side by side down the pavement, too close for comfort, but it’s comforting anyway, their knuckles knocking into each other every other step. Mari interlocks their fingers once the two reach the end of the block. They probably didn’t have to wait that long with it being this late, but it had become a ritual at this point. 

The first time he’d try to hold her hand in front of her house, she swatted at him. “Wait until the corner,” she said through her teeth, as if someone was looming over them, listening in on every word they shared. When he asked her about it later, she explained. “My father’s protective bubble can only go so far. It stops at the sign. If we can make it past that, then we can do whatever we want.” She wiggled her eyebrows at that last bit, which he laughed at before flicking her forehead to get her to shut up. 

They have a few more little rules to go along with it. Minimal interactions in front of her house, keeping their time alone a secret, no sharing the same carton of ice-cream for whatever reason. It was a bit annoying at first, but it soon became a comfort. It gave them guidelines to follow. Structure. Like a little piece of paper with a checklist titled, “This is how to Love!”, which he thinks is good for both of them. They’re similar in that way. 

He thinks about all of this as if they’re actually dating. Maybe they are. Maybe he should ask. 

They cross into Faraway Park. The slide has nearly rusted over after decades of rain and misuse, and the swingset has begun to crumble. His mother said that it was an old park even back when she was still in school. It’s eternally decrepit. There have been a few circulating petitions that call for a remodeling, but obviously, not enough people care about it or it would have gotten done years ago. They’d talked about it before: 

“Are they ever gonna fix this place up?” Mari groaned. This was the summer before last, a few weeks before they’d met Aubrey or Basil. The four of them--Hero, Mari, Kel, and Sunny--sat in a circle in the wood chips that would inevitably leave imprints all over their legs. Sweat slicked the back of their necks, and their water bottles had run dry thirty minutes before. Summer had never felt hotter. 

Hero hummed in reply. He hadn’t really thought about it before. Faraway Park was definitely past its prime, but that was just how it was. “Probably not,” he decided. 

Mari groaned even louder. “Well, they really should. One of us could get hurt sliding down this thing,” she gestured to the rusty metal slide planted into the ground next to them. “All it takes is one cut, and--” she dragged her thumb over her neck melodramatically. 

Kel’s eyes widened in awe--“ _That’s sick._ ”--while Hero exhaled through his nose, half amused. “Whatever,” he sighed. “I think it’s cool. Comforting, maybe?” 

“Cool? Comforting?” Mari squinted and pointed her nose away. “You’re crazy. Right, Sunny?” 

Sunny gave Hero a pitied glance and nodded. 

Kel and Mari giggled, while Hero went red-faced and feigned indifference. Thankfully, the heat had already turned all of their faces into tomatoes, so they didn’t notice. He wanted to be so cool back then.

This late on an October night, Hero thinks the park is completely abandoned until he spots a group of rowdy teenagers he doesn’t recognize hanging on the far side of the basketball court. Probably just a bunch of underclassmen. He instinctively judges them for hanging around this late at night before realizing that _he’s_ a teenager hanging around this late at night. Puts things in perspective a little bit. 

“This place still grosses me out,” Mari murmurs beside him, swinging their hands a bit as they make their way to the southern end of the park. 

Hero hums a response. He still has no opinion. 

They finally reach the hole in the woods leading to their hideout. It’s a bit ominous without the presence of sunlight, like the path beyond the bushes could lead them to their doom.

The two share a look: “Are we really doing this right now?” 

Hero sniffs and clears his throat. “After you.” 

Mari smiles and releases his hand, leaving it exposed to the cool autumn breeze. He stuffs it into his pocket in an attempt to ignore how much he misses the sensation of it being held. “Thank you very much.” She ducks through the bushes, and he follows suit until they reach the clearing. The hideout is a lot less welcoming, to say the least. Fragments of forgotten toys litter the areas surrounding the small lake at the center. It’s dark blue waters are inescapable, like if he were to dive into them, he’d get sucked down to it’s floor and turned into fish food. 

It doesn’t seem to bother Mari though--she marches on ahead barely taking a second to process the eeriness that the area radiates. She’s already set down her basket and is beginning to lay out the blankets when she notices Hero lagging behind.

“Are you okay?” 

His face grows warm as he focuses his attention back to her. If the prickling on the back of his neck is fear, then it’s also really embarrassing. “Yeah, I’m fine. It just looks so different.”

“Does it?” She tilts her head, scans over the waters and the field, then half smiles. “Maybe a little bit.” He’s pretty sure she’s just saying that to make him feel better. There are two remaining blankets, and she tosses Hero one of them. “Help me set this up.” 

He obliges, and they work in comfortable silence--the sheets stretched as straight as they can go, symmetry maintained when putting down plates, and placing a few larger rocks on the edges of the blankets to keep them from blowing away. Both of them are bundled up in sweatshirts and sweatpants, but it still feels too cold to be out this late. Hero doesn’t mind though. It’s worth it. Just being here with her is worth it. 

They sit across from each other--legs crossed, knees touching--and idly chat, making their sandwiches. It’s been so long since they were alone like this. He missed it so much. 

“I really am glad you came along this time,” Mari says as she takes a bite from her PB+J.“Picnics are a bit lonely when you’re by yourself.” 

“Do you come by yourself often?” He asks, a bit surprised. She answers with a wink, and he grins, “Maybe this should be our thing. Midnight picnics?” 

Her eyebrows shoot up. “Really? That’d be cute. Every other Saturday night, we sneak off into the darkness and meet in secret. And against my father’s wishes! How romantic.” 

_Romantic._ He could ask her right now. _Are we together? Are we dating? ‘Cause I think I’m in love with you._ Well, he wouldn’t go that far. He’d sound like a creep. He gets uneasy just thinking about the L word. To be fair, he really does love Mari, and he knows she loves him back, but to put it into that context… it’s terrifying. He doesn’t want to ruin what they have right now. He doesn’t want to ruin this moment. 

“You could have invited me if you needed some company. I don’t mind.”

She shrugs. “It’s nice to get away from everything. I might be a tad overwhelmed.” She admits it like it’s a joke, but Hero senses that it isn’t. Even without the glow of the street lights, he can feel her uneasiness. “I’m stressed out about college and this recital and Sunny and. Ugh. There’s so much.” 

He nods as compassionately as he can. “You have a lot on your plate right now. It makes sense that you’d need a break.” 

She lets out a heavy sigh. If it’s one of relief, Hero isn’t able to tell. “Yeah. Thanks. Thanks for coming with me, it’s, like, 12:30 right now.” 

“No, I wanted to,” he reassures her, taking a sip from his water bottle. “I was actually just thinking about, um, how I hadn’t seen you in a while. Y’know, like, outside of school.” 

Something about his own words triggered the back of his neck to grow hot. He felt like a stupid little kid again. 

“So what you’re saying is…” _Oh, god._ “You missed me.” He can hear the smile in her voice. 

He buries his face in his hands even though she can probably barely see him under the weak light of the flashlights they brought. “Why do you have to say it like that?” 

“So you’re saying you didn’t miss me?” 

“No, no, I missed you _so_ much.” 

She laughs, clear and loud, and rocks back and forth, knocking their knees together. “I missed you, too. I would try to come around more, but my dad is being weird.” 

Hero’s embarrassment swiftly morphs into irritation. “What does he have against me? I didn’t do anything to him! I try to be respectful, and he repays me with dagger eyes.” 

He looks up sharply, thinking that he might have overstepped a boundary, but Mari is shaking her head. “It’s not you, I promise.” Hero can’t bring himself to believe her. One of these days, that signature glare her dad is always throwing his way will kill him. “He’s just really protective. I’m his only daughter or whatever. Weird father-daughter stuff.” 

“Weird father-daughter stuff?”

“Yeah.”

“Wow, that sounds terrible.” 

She takes another bite. “Whatever. You wouldn’t get it.” 

“I’m glad I don’t get it. I don’t want to.” He jokes, letting out a long sigh. “Maybe your dad is just weird. Do he and Sunny have weird father-son stuff, too?” 

That must’ve been the wrong question to ask, because Mari visibly tenses up in front of him. He freezes. _Shit._ “I-I mean, you don’t have to talk about that if it’s _too_ weird or whatever.” _Wow, Hero. That was so graceful._

The wind goes still. “No, it’s fine,” she finally says. “Sunny is a great kid. I know he doesn’t talk much, but he’s so bright and funny and kind. He just needs help sometimes, which is what I’m here for. I think,” she pauses to take a swig from her drink. “I think my dad is mad that he didn’t get the ‘normal son’ or whatever. Sunny isn’t the type of kid to go out and play catch with his dad. That’s just not who he is. And there’s all of this stuff with Basil…” 

Hero’s eyebrows shot up. “Basil? What about him?” 

She gave him an uneasy, contemplative look, before leaning forward. “Don’t tell anyone this, okay? Do you promise?” 

He brought himself closer to her. “I promise.” The two locked pinky fingers like they used to back in grade school. For some reason, this whole thing made him feel like they were kids again. Swapping secrets in the middle of the night. He wonders if she’ll ever know how much he loves her. 

Mari straightens her posture and crosses her arms, just like she does when she thinks she’s on the moral high ground. It’s adorable. He sits back and watches her talk. “Well, nothing _actually_ happened, my dad is just being a dick, but basically he thinks that Basil and Sunny are, like, together, which I say, let them live! They’re twelve! I think it’s cute, but my dad got really mad about it one day. It’s not like he said the worst shit in the world, it just wasn’t cool, and, of course, Sunny has been upset about it ever since. He won’t _do_ anything. The pressure from the recital isn’t helping, either.” 

None of this information is particularly surprising to Hero--this isn’t the first time they’ve talked about the weird dynamic between Sunny and the rest of his family, and it honestly felt like a natural progression in Sunny and Basil’s relationship. Kel also might have mentioned the two once or twice in passing. It makes him wonder how much grade school drama the little group has going on under their noses. Thinking of Sunny being stuck in such a toxic environment does make him worry though. “The last thing Sunny needs is an unaccepting parental figure. Things are already hard for him as is, y’know?” He says the last bit carefully, her younger brother can be a sore subject, but his comment only fuels Mari’s annoyance towards her father.

“Honestly. And my dad doesn’t even want Basil coming around. The only reason he’s even sleeping over tonight is because I convinced my dad it would be fine. He can sleep over and then we can all go together to the recital. It’s not like his grandma can drive him. Or feed him for that matter.” She gasps and her hands shoot up to cover her mouth. “Oh, wow, that was mean.”

It did come off as insensitive, but Hero just shrugs. “Maybe a little bit, but you’re not wrong. Word gets around--she can barely take care of him. She’s been old for as long as anybody can remember.” Eternally decrepit. 

“Yeah,” she sighs and looks through him. “Like everything else in this town.” She uncrosses her legs and falls back to the ground, her shoulders and head landing against the grassy field. “Come lay with me.” It sounds just like a secret. Like she only wants him to hear it. A whisper only for him. So he does. 

Mari and Hero lay side by side with intertwined fingers and tangled legs because no one is there to stop them. The sky is clear. The stars shine against the inky pool of blacks and purples and blues, like someone took a needle and poked through a little dome that’s trapped them all here. He doesn’t think he’s seen a sky this beautiful. 

They lay there, sprawled out on the field behind Faraway Park for what feels like a little infinity.

“I’m sick of being perfect.” She barely says it. She says it like it doesn’t need a response. He lets his thumb trace over hers. Her callouses press up against his knuckles. “I think I push Sunny too hard.” 

He closes his eyes and listens to the lake stir. “I’m sure you don’t.” 

“But I do,” she sniffs. “I feel like a parent forcing their child into doing shit they don’t wanna do. He never wants to practice with me, Hero. An--and I need this to be perfect.” 

She’s now holding onto his hand so tightly, it feels like she might never let go. He doesn’t want her to let go. “It’s okay. You don’t have to be perfect. After the recital, you won’t have to worry about this anymore. It’ll be okay.” 

There’s a drawn out silence between them. “You always know what to say.” She sniffs again and turns her head away. “Agh, don’t look at me cry.” 

He lets out a dry laugh. “I promise you that I never know what to say,” he can barely believe she thinks that. It feels like the most untrue thing in the world. 

“Well, you always end up saying the right things, so that counts for something.” 

He’s blushing again. “Thank you very much.” 

Mari wipes at her face with her free hand for a few moments then finally turns to face him. “Also, I’m sorry for dragging you out here in the middle of the night and then talking about myself for 45 minutes.” 

They grin giddily at each other. “Oh, I think it was longer than that.”

The grins evolve into chuckles which bloom into side-splitting laughter. It’s funny, because it’s true. They laugh until their heads ache. They laugh until they can’t breathe anymore. They laugh until they can’t remember what was so funny in the first place. 

The two are sitting up now, Hero can’t remember in which stage of the laughing fit they did that, but it feels nice. The wind has picked up again, but it doesn’t bother him. Neither of them ended up eating that much, which is okay. Picnics aren’t really for eating anyway. 

“So, Kel’s getting on your nerves, huh?” she asks as they begin to put their things away. 

Hero winces when she puts it like that, but… “Yeah. I feel bad, because he’s just twelve, but I don’t remember being that annoying in middle school.” 

Her expression turns dubious. “No, you definitely were, it just didn’t feel that way at the time.” 

He flips one of the blankets in half. A part of him wants to protest, but she remembers him better than he remembers himself. “You’re probably right.”

“Mhm,” she hums. “You always were trying to be cool. I’m glad you finally gave up on that.”

Hero scoffs and kicks a bit of dirt towards her as revenge. “Are you saying I’m not cool?” 

“That’s exactly what I’m saying.” 

“Dude.” 

She gives him a sweet smile. “Just kidding.”

“Kel really needs to lay off the video games, though.” Hero hands her a plastic bag to put the food in. “I was definitely _not_ staying up until dawn playing, I don’t know, _Everquest_ or something.” 

“ _Everquest_?”

“That’s why I said I don’t know!” 

“You’re such an idiot.” 

He smiles to himself as he finishes folding the last blanket. It feels so good to hear someone call him that. “I really am, aren’t I?” 

“Mhm.” 

And with that, they head back into Faraway Park and towards home. The group of rowdy teenagers have since disbanded and been replaced by a small group of the homeless. As they pass by the decaying playground toys, Hero mutters to Mari, “Maybe you shouldn’t come out here at night by yourself.” 

She scoffs beside him. “I’m fine, Hero. They’re just homeless.”

He didn’t know why that made so much sense to him. 

They hold hands until they reach the intersection where they slow to a stop. 

“Damn,” Mari withdraws her grip and flips her hair. “Shouldn’t have made that stupid rule.” 

Hero shifts his weight. “Yeah, maybe…” She raises her eyebrows at him. “I mean, they’re good rules, though. Rules are always nice.” 

“Maybe.” 

They stand at the stop sign for a moment, less than a foot apart with Mari gazing up at him with an indistinguishable look in her eye. He wants to pour all of his feelings into her, tell her how much he loves her and how much he misses her and how he wants to do this again, because he loves being with her, but the words can’t seem to form. It’s alright, though. They have time. 

Mari finally exhales loudly and stalks ahead of him. “Okay, let’s go.” He watches her from behind. The wicker picnic basket swinging in one hand. Her long black hair shining under the light of the street lamps. The air was still crisp, but it didn’t seem as cold anymore. 

They stop in front of his house. 

“Well,” his gaze drifts down to his shoes awkwardly before offering her a smile. “See you tomorrow.” 

She frowned at him and crossed her arms again, the same way she did earlier. “Y’know,” she starts, “I really thought you were gonna kiss me at that stop sign.” 

He doesn’t know what he was expecting, but it definitely wasn’t that. His heart has been lodged into his stomach, and the words are getting stuck in his throat before he can even think of them. 

“Oh.” 

Mari scrunches up her nose. “You really are an idiot.” 

Hero wants to disintegrate into thin air and become one with the atmosphere. He knows that she can see the heat in his face. “I-I could kiss you right here.” _This is just pathetic._ “If you want.”

She doesn’t seem to even consider it and shakes her head stiffly. “Nope. It’s against the rules. Next time.” 

He gives her a halfhearted smile, trying to ignore the fact that she just looked into his soul and then obliterated it. “Next time.” 

Mari returns the gesture, but she means it. She turns her back, and walks across the sidewalk to the house next door. He turns his, and stalks up his driveway. He wants to run over there and kiss her on her doorstep. Who cares about her stupid dad? Or they could run back to the stop sign and kiss all they want. Who would stop them? He steps from his front door to peek back over the fence separating their yards to say nothing in particular, but she’s already disappeared inside. 

Hero sighs, the October air biting at his lips. 

_Next time._

**Author's Note:**

> thank u for reading!!! i rly enjoyed writing this and i hope u enjoyed reading it :33  
> i really wanted to write a version of hero that wasn't as uptight and just,, so in love  
> also really wanted to give mari's character justice,, she's so complex and i love her so much  
> might write a follow-up if anyone is interested? don't hold me to it though haha
> 
> (edit: as i said in the notes, i didn't realize the game took place in like 2003 lol but everything else in this series is written in the correct period!! sorry bout that)
> 
> here's my tumblr!!!   
> https://www.tumblr.com/blog/hatercube


End file.
